


Him

by wariiina



Category: 1917 (Movie 2019), 1917 (Movie 2019) Actor RPF, george mackay - Fandom
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Romance, Sex
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-12
Updated: 2020-05-24
Packaged: 2021-03-01 20:55:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,970
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23603404
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wariiina/pseuds/wariiina
Relationships: george mackay - Relationship, reader / george mackay
Kudos: 26





	1. Chapter 1

You were looking out the car window, outside everything was very green, a journey of landscape. A light rain was falling which make you feel even more sleepy.  
In the driving seat looking very relaxed was George, he knew the road by heart. You were heading north somewhere in the countryside. George had had the idea to spend some days at his family cottage. At first you hesitated, you weren’t sure about that being a good idea, you felt the pressure this could be too or could lead to something else. You had been single since pretty much forever and you liked it that way, or at least you had become get used to it, so the presence of him suddenly in your life was a bit confusing. He had ended up convincing you anyway, trying his best not to be pushy and making it look all too casual.

“You’re going to love it!” He had said “is very calm”.  
He had offer you to walk you home after a house party you guys went to of a friend you had in common. “And you’ll be able to read tons” He knew you were currently stuck with this book you were meaning to finish “yeah could be...” you said walking to your house front, ruffling in your bag looking for the keys. He stood there, hands shoved into his pockets, his lips forming a line, better not to insist, he figured. You turned to him and offered him a small smile “I’ll think about it” he bob his head. “Goodnight George”

You sighed. “are you tired?” he asked placing his hand on your knee, “we’re almost there” he look at you with that smile that made his eyes tinny. Sweet.  
You reached for your phone to change the music, C’est toi qu’elle préfère from Alice et Moi. You begin mouthing the lyrics alongside with the electro pop tune, he glanced at you “what does it say?” turning his eyes to the road then to you, you look at him and continued mouthing the words, moving your body to the sound of the music, probably looking very ridiculous, he smiled. He find it cool that you were fluent in french. How come? He didn’t know like many other things about you. 

By the time you arrived it was not long before sunset. He got off the main road to a track that snakes to the cottage “There it is” he said. Sitting in a clearing was the red brick cottage with its white framed windows and a porche. It was lovely. It looked so cosy you couldn’t wait get inside.  
The rain had stopped, you looked around and inhaled the pleasing earthy scent. You grabbed your bag, it was heavy, or course you needed to carry 3 books with you. After unloading the rest of the luggage from the car’s truck he gave you a tour.  
Inside, dark wood cornice tracked the living spaces contrasting with white wall and wooden floor. It had three bedrooms, a kitchen with dining area and a sitting room with a feature stone fireplace. It was quite spacious and had a superb view. Outside, in the back there was a fenced backyard with some furniture. The location was idyllic, with a few sights and some fantastic activities available close by as he mentioned eagerly afterwards “there’s a pond not far from here” he motioned “I’ll take you there” affirmed with a nod and a smile. 

You got the groceries out of the bags and fixed something to eat. Since you had stuffed your faces with chips on the road you weren’t that hungry, so cereal for you and a sandwich for him. You sat next to each other at the kitchen counter, looking out the window, munching in silence. It was dark outside already, nothing but the moonlight. It was indeed so peaceful. Earlier, you had noticed a trail perfect to go for a run in the morning and you decided that’s how you wanted to start your day tomorrow. He took you out of your daydreaming with a kiss in your forehead. He put on some chill music and sat back next to you and begin to tell you the and adventures of this place, the summers he used to spend with his friends and family, when he got lost while rambling in the woods nearby, and other stories including the one where he earner that tiny scar in his upper lip. You placed a finger on it. Your eyes locked with his beautiful blue ones for a second. Gosh he was hot. Not wanting to start anything you removed it back quickly, you picked up your bowl and put it in the sink. His phone rang “I’m good, thanks! Yes yes, I received them” his agent, you guessed “Sorry? you’re breaking up, give me a sec” he gestured he was going out outside. 

You pick up your bag from the entrance floor and went upstairs. His sister’s bedroom and his were facing and next to his was his parents’, further down the hallways was a box room. You stop at his bedroom and peeked inside. You strolled around the room, there was a guitar with a missing string in the corner, some photos pinned on the wall, toddler George was in them, so cute, a baseball set and small corner desk. You sat on the bed and realized how tired you were as you yawned. In the distance you could hear George’s voice. You put on some comfy clothes, a large sleep shirt and fuzzy socks why not. You grabbed your book and lie down. You never thought you’d be disappointed with a book from Dostoevsky but L’idiot was really a rambling mess, and you decided to pick the french version, great. So here you were, page 750 of 900+ struggling with keeping up with all the many characters and incessant dialogues, but you were determined to finish this book once and for all.

“Oh” his figure appeared on the doorframe “I thought you’d be in the main bedroom” he gestured with his head, he was holding some papers in his hand, a script probably. “I’m good here” you said peeking over from your book. He entered “sorry” he said sitting on the edge, you lifted you head from the bed “It was my agent” he began stroking your leg “I need to send him a video and check some scripts” he seemed tired “Ok” you answered with a smile. “You good?” he asked rising his eyebrows “Need anything?” you shook your head “Nope”. He got up and out, he rushed downstairs, you heard some rustling sound and some whistling and then his footsteps coming back up. With his laptop under his arm and a glass of water gave you a quick kiss on your temple and let you be in peace with your reading, he settled at the small desk and began working. 

Your eyes begin to feel heavy and at some point you let sleep take over you.


	2. Chapter 2

When you woke up, you were covered in a blanket and surrounded with warmth. Next to you was George sleeping soundly on his back, fully dressed, his hands resting in is chest still holding the script, he must have fallen asleep. His chest rose and fell with every deep breath. Your eyes traveled over his handsome face, his lips slightly parted, his pale pink glossy eyelids, head cocked to the side with his hair a jumbled mess and his perfect nose, you fought the urge to draw your finger through the bridge of it.

Your reached down to the floor for your phone, it was still early, perfect to go for a run, but first, coffee. You tiptoed out of the room making your way into the kitchen. There you found a french press and grounded coffee. It was a bright morning with clear blue skies. You poured some coffee and stepped out onto the porch, the fresh air slipping under your shirt, you breathed in and closed your eyes for a moment. You enjoyed moments like this when the earth is quiet and everything seems so calm. Until you heard a dog barking and fast approaching, followed by the sound of a car’s door slammed shut. You felt your heartbeat pick up when you saw the dog running full steam at you. You quickly went inside and closed the door, spilling hot coffee in your hand and shirt “shiiit” you muttered frowning. The damn dog was sniffing and growling at the door just as you heard voices nearing “Oh no...” you thought, chills running up your spine. A girl ran to the door and entered, she stopped dead in her tracks. “Oh...” she looked startled “Hi..?” she frowned. You were frozen, the dog sniffing the hell out of you. “Hello” you managed to say, barely audible with the mug in you hand dripping a bit. She examined you for a second tilting her head and then said “OH, HI!” this time with a big smile and reaching to shake your hand. “You must be X, I’ve heard A LOT about you” she said with a sly grin and hurried inside with the dog “c’mon boy”. You were left there, motionless and clueless “Heard about me?” You repeated in you head, but you were interrupted by a high-pitched voice calling “George? Is that George?” A woman walked in followed by a big man with a generous belly. She gave you a stern glance and eyed you from head to foot as Miranda Priestly did in the devil wears Prada, you felt like a bug, small and insignificant. You gulped.  
“George!” They cheered in unison. ‘Thank god’ you thought relieved as George appeared behind you at the foot of the stairs “Mom, dad, didn’t know you were coming” He sounded as confused as you were and went to hug them, his mother held his face between her hands and planted a big kiss on each cheek and the girl tackled him with a big hug. All too lovely, yes, but you wanted to disappear. “Oh well we didn’t know you were here” his mom said putting her bag in the entryway table and taking off her jacket. You were slowly walking backwards to the stairs when “Oh!” George reached for your arm “I’m sorry, she’s X” he introduced you, “She’s...”, “a friend” you finished the line for him and greeted everyone. A minute of awkward silence followed. “Son, can you help me unload the truck?” His father asked, pointing to the door with his thumb, “Yeap” George bobbed is head and both went out. A moment of hustle and bustle followed, you began to quietly leave room. “George will sleep in your bedroom” The mother said to her daughter, to which she rolled her eyes with a smile, George came in carrying some bags,”I guess you’ll be staying in my room” she said to him in an amused way and shrugging her shoulders “What?” He said and turned to his mother, then in a tone of surprise “Really?”, “Yes, really.” She said decisively.

Since running was cancelled that day, you reached for your bag to find a clean change of clothes and got dressed quickly. BOY if that wasn’t the most embarrassed you had felt in a while! you thought whilst looking at your reflection in the mirror, your hair in a messy sort of bun, the coffee stains, the outfit, lol what the heck. All of this was your fault, none of this would have happened if you would have stayed home. You closed your eyes and exhaled. This wasn’t the time to be tormenting yourself.

“Is your FRIEND allergic to something?” George’s sister asked mockingly raising one eyebrow, she was cutting some oranges in half. He thought for a second, his hands busy with the bags, he had seen you eat cake an tapas once, that only reminded him how few were the times he had actually see you “I think she’s not..” he put the bags aside and said “I’ll ask her”.

George had come to check on you, they were making breakfast, he informed you, you figured by all the ruckus coming from the kitchen and the for yummy smell of roasted bacon “This ain’t weird is it?” He had asked sitting at the edge of the mattress, ‘VERY’ you would have love to say but instead you played it cool and offered him a smile, you didn’t want to make anyone uncomfortable plus you were at their place anyway. And he seemed happy and that’s what mattered right? You shook your head and went downstairs, you were more worried about the uncomfortable questions you might have to endure during breakfast than anything else.

“And?” His mother had asked once George reappeared in the kitchen “What?” he said “Allergies...?” His sister urged “Oh I forgot to ask” he gestured and return to what he was doing.

By the looks of things, they would be staying for a couple of days or at least that’s what the numerous amounts of groceries suggested. You helped setting the table. George’s mom was doing pretty much everything, you could tell she had some cooking skills, his sister was making juice, George was cutting some bread and his dad was sitting in the kitchen counter, squinting his eyes at his phone and holding it at about 20 inches from his face, “Love, can you help me with this?” he asked as you pass next to him with the cutlery “Sure”. He was trying to connect his phone to a Bluetooth speaker.

To your relief, there were no uncomfortable questions at all. They were making plans for the afternoon, something about the fence, the picnic table and the Davies’. “Are they here?” George asked frowning and biting into his toast, “I saw a car parked outside the house on our way here” his mother said spreading jam on a piece of bread. “I saw it too” his sister said nodding “We should definitely pay them a visit”, she said in an amused voice.

“What’s that?” You asked poking at a small yellowish bruise on George’s upper arm. He looked “Oh that” he met your gaze “that was you” a smirk slowly formed in his lips. What did he mean? You shook slightly your head looking into his eyes for a hint when flashbacks filled your mind. You squeezed your eyes shut and turned you head away. A jumble of crazy pictures raced through your head, his lips against yours, his scent, his hands tracing your.... You could feel George gaze all over you. You experienced a moment of panic but you snapped right out of it. “I don’t remember” you mumbled and gestured evasively. You finished the orange juice in one go trying to conceal your embarrassment but that only made you start coughing a little.

Their heads begin turning in your direction, “Maybe she really is allergic” his sister muttered, you heard that and you fought back a cough, blinking you looked up “I’m not... allergic...to anything”  
“Water?” George offered barely containing a smile, his eyes crinkling up as he poured some in your glass. The bastard found this amusing.

His mother and sister went to see the Davies while George and his dad stayed to fix a fence post. There was a small stone where you found a good spot, you got comfortable, put your feet up and began to read. The dog came to chill next to you, apparently, he was buddies with you now. George looked happily at you because he saw you were enjoying yourself.

There was a shed in the garden where George came and went following his dad instructions. His cheeks had turned a bit red, beads of sweat forming on his forehead. Occasionally he came and checked on you and asked if you were ok or needed anything. Was he be being extra caring or had he always been like this but you decided to ignore it?

You brought them lemonade and not long after his sister and mother returned.

After a copious lunch, you both sat in the porch floor enjoying each other's company and watching the sky change colors. “How’s your reading going?” He pointed with his chin towards the book laying on the floor. You sighed, ‘dear lord help me to keep going’, you thought but simply said “It’s going”, “Then why are you reading it?” he asked, “Russian literature never disappoints...” you said then turned your eyes to the book “Until now”, “I’ll get us some wine” He winked and went in to the kitchen, how sweet of him. He pulled out a bottle of red wine and filled 2 glasses, his mother walked in and asked for some too. They walked out of the house, his mother started walking down the gravel path and George handed you a glass as he sat next to you. “So, who’s your favorite writer?” he resumed, “Tolstoy” you answered without hesitation, even though Gorky might come in a close second Tolstoy was your number one. “How about you?” You asked cheerfully, and with that you began speaking about everything and nothing. Conversations with him went so smoothly as if you could never run out of topics. He was a good listener, he made you feel as if he was carefully weighing each of your words, he was also well-spoken, he smiled and moved his hands a lot like an Italian would. After a few more jokes and bursts of laughter you exchanged a soft lingering look. Man, there should be a map just to get out of his eyes.

“George!” His mother called out, “Could you pass me the lighter, please?” He went inside to get it. It was beginning to get a bit cold, you sunk into your jacket taking a sip of wine.  
He rushed over to his mom as she was holding out a package of cigarettes to him, he gestured “No, thanks”, “You don’t smoke now?” She asked, raising one eyebrow while lighting the smoke. “Yeah-no” He answered quickly. The wind had caught up a bit, tickling George’s his neck, he shoved his hands in his pockets. His mother gave him an inquisitive look, “I-“ he began and gazed in your direction “She told you to quit smoking?” Her mother guessed taking a long puff. “No” George replied laughingly, his weight shifting from one foot to the other from the cold “She doesn’t like the smell” he said and shrugged, lips tight in a smile.

He remembered, it was probably about the third time you had bumped into each other. The flat was packed with people smoking, you had gone outside to the balcony to breath fresh air and to avoid smelling like an ashtray. Seeing you again had given George a little shock, his eyes had followed you since you had entered the room. He had decided to “casually” join you in the balcony. He felt like asking you a great many questions, he spoke a little feverishly, as if he wanted to make up for the time he had not seen you. That was the night he got your number.

His mother nodded slowly. She wanted to know more about this “friend” of his but she wasn’t the pushy type.  
The sound of howling wind sent cold shivers up George’s spine, he beckoned, “Let’s go back inside” She made a gesture with her hand to dismiss him “Go” and she looked at her cigarette between her fingers halfway gone.

George helped you get up and you went inside. George and his dad threw a few pieces of wood in the fireplace and began to light the fire.  
Everyone gathered to relax. His sister was in one of the couches, her feet dangling over the arm, staring at her phone as she scrolled through her feed. You were curled up on the sofa reading and his mother next to you was flipping through a magazine. Across you were George and his dad, both looking at his laptop, he was showing him something about a film set. You caught yourself peeking over the edge of your book a little too often. Was the dim light hitting George’s face different, or was it something else? He looked good. After that little incident during breakfast you were unable to brush off the memories of the night you had spent with him. Did he have more marks on his body? God, you grimaced of embarrassment at the thought of it and hoped not. You were oblivious, but his sister caught you looking at George.

After a while their parents went to bed. His sister got up to get some water and cleared her throat to catch his brother’s attention, George looked up and she began sending signals with her eyes and mouthing “GO” Indicating X by a slight movement of her head George looked at her like “what?” She rolled her eyes and then again gave him an intense stare “you idiot, go sit next to her” at that moment you stretched your arms and looked up at them, both startled at you, your eyes shifted from George to his sister “I’m going to bed now”.

“Thicker than clotted cream” his sister snapped once you had left. “I suppose you haven’t told her” she sat next to him, George breathed out “It’s complicated” he closed his laptop and put it in the coffee table. “If you like her you should tell her!” she insisted, “Listen,” he started, with a slight show of annoyance in his voice, then in a quieter note “I did, but...” He frowned, he genuinely wanted to get to know you but things didn’t turned out the way he’d hoped “She ghosted you” her sister said, he chucked a little in response “I suppose you can call it that.” His sister was well aware of the situation. A while back when she received a text from George saying he had met someone that he liked, she was quite surprised and happy for him. After a brief silence she added cheerfully “Well, she’s here now isn’t she?”

It was very quiet at night, you lit the table lamp and got into bed. The silence had let your thoughts wander off to him.  
You learn so many things about a man when you’re in bed with him, you for instance have learned that George had strong feeling for you  
that’s why you had ended up dodging him.  
Life had kept you busy giving you no time to discover what was happening inside your own heart, it was easier to avoid giving those feelings their true weight. “To live, you need no one but yourself” Simone de Beauvoir has once said, but was it really enough?  
You snapped out of your thoughts when you heard a soft knock on the door and George’s head poked “I KNEW you were still up” he said, his face beaming, he closed the door behind him. You raise yourself up onto your elbows and whispered with a slight tone of panic “What are you doing here?” He sat in the edge of the mattress to take his trainers off “What do you mean?”, “ You’re not supposed to be here” You continued in low voice, his parents’ bedroom was right next to his, you didn’t want them to hear but in fact, the muffled conversation on the other side of the wall had just woke his mother up. She heard him laugh and you shushing him. George must have detected your uneasiness, because he said “Ok, I’ll leave in a moment” in a completely unconvinced tone. You looked at him suspiciously, turned to your side and soon you were asleep.


End file.
